Ask for Everything

Sixth Sunday of Easter
29 May 2011
Rev. Jon C. Olson

In the Name of the Father and of the +Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

The day will come when you will forget the difficulties and sufferings in this life for the joy that is before you in the eternal life to come in heaven. Your sorrows will end and nothing will ever make you sad again. You will see God face to face. The kingdom of heaven will belong to you. In that day, you will ask the Lord for nothing. You will have no unmet need or wants. At the same time you will still be a creature, dependent on the Lord for all things, but because you have obtained mercy, are Baptized, your every joy will be filled. You will have everything you need or want.

But not yet. Then you will ask for nothing, but now you ask for everything. Even though Jesus has taken your sins, you still have sorrow, hard work, disappointments, and tribulation.

"Ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full," says the Lord. But we ask and it seems we do not receive. Our joy is not yet full.

There was little joy in Joplin, MO at 5:42 pm one minute after a category F5 tornado had just gone back up into the heavens. The wreckage it left behind is beyond words. We are thankful that Emily’s parents, who live in Joplin, MO were at home and not directly affected by the tornado. It came within 6 blocks of where they live and one block from Immanuel Lutheran Church where they are members. Sixteen families from Immanuel had their homes totally destroyed. The only death connected with the church so far is the brother of a teacher at the church’s school. It is likely that this will not be the only death at Immanuel. Throughout the city of Joplin are 132 confirmed deaths as of this morning. There are still more bodies to be identified; more deaths to be reported. More pain, more anguish more suffering. TV and internet images and YouTube videos overwhelm us with so much death, so much destruction, so much sorrow, so much pain. We grieve with and for the people of Joplin, Mo, now picking up what little pieces they can salvage from what remains they can salvage after this incredible disaster.

We have joy in Christ, but it coexists with sadness, even as our faith stands alongside our doubt, our good works next to our sins. We are tortured with temptation. We are riddled through with sin. We are haunted by guilt, shame, regret, and uncertainty for many things including even our lack of compassion. God asks us to help those in need, but we don’t want to. We ask God to help us, but it seems we rarely and only partially receive.

In prayer, like no other place, we are faced with the hidden will of God. We know what has happened: that Jesus has made atonement for us, that God loves us and has declared us righteous, that His mercy endures forever, and we are the forgiven saints of God. We know that we are baptized. So we also know what will happen: we will be brought to heaven, our sorrows will end, we will be whole and free.

But we don't quite know what is happening now. Why we have to live in the terror and sorrow of this world. Our prayer is for the end, for the fulfillment of all things, to be sure, but it also for daily needs and wants, like avoiding pain, give us this day our daily bread, a loving faithful spouse, and a new television set. We live and pray with Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane. "Nevertheless not my will, but Your be done." And that is a will that hurts; a will that we often do not know. We know that God has intervened on our behalf, that His will was done on Mt. Calvary for us, that these sorrows will not last, that death itself, that last enemy, will be overcome.

But we do not know God's will for us right now. Will we live or die? Things like tornados that are ¾ of a mile wide and 6 miles long permanently change lives in under a minute. Truth be told, we live our lives always on the brink of disaster. Death stares us in the face every day we live. We do not know what the biopsy will reveal, or who will run a red light and smash into us. We do not know what false accusations or gossip we might face, how we might be sifted like wheat or purified by fire, or even if we can pay our bills this month. We do not know the will of God for these things. We will be spared some, to be sure. We are, in fact, spared much. Even if your stomach is now growling, you cannot describe yourself as truly hungry. There is food in your cupboard at home. We also have a great deal of joy in this life: family, friends, graduations, Memorial Day weekend. But we don't know what will be given or taken away or when. We also know that we will have tribulation, sorrow, and pain. But none of us know the exact character or extent of any of it. This is hard to live with.

So in our prayers Jesus tells us to ask for everything, without shame, like children asking their fathers, trusting that our heavenly Father will only give us what is good and that His will really is best. We are not ashamed to ask for big things, the end of hunger, poverty, and war, a peaceful church, a cure for cancer or Parkinson's disease. We know that finally all this will be answered in heaven. But we want these things now. Jesus fed the five thousand and raised the widow's son in Nain. Perhaps He will turn and give us a foretaste of heaven now.

We are also not ashamed to ask for small things, for a good parking spot, a victory in the Super Bowl by our favorite team, or that the toast not be burnt. The day will come when we ask for nothing, but it is not today. Today, we ask for everything and everything we ask in Jesus' Name, according to His will, trusting that the day will come when it is all given and our wills and His will are one. We ask for everything because nothing properly belongs to us, we are beggars, and yet, we are God's beggars, declared righteous and pleasing to Him and He has pledged all things to us. Ask, and you will receive.

Jesus has overcome the world. He has obtained our salvation. He knows what is best. We focus our attention not on His hidden will (on questions like, “why did God let this happen?”), on which breakfast cereal we should eat or whether we should shave or shower first, but we focus our attention on what He has promised, on who He is. This we know: His mercy endures forever. Jesus lives. We cannot know His hidden will, so we exercise the freedom He has given us. We choose the cereal before us, what is there, what we can afford, what seems best to us in this circumstance, whether it is best for our health or just best for our taste buds at the moment. For we trust that He will bless it, that His will be done in even the simplest things. We ignore what seems to have happened and confess and wait on what God promises. We hang our hats what He has revealed, placing all our hopes and dreams and trust in the promise that the Lord who has given us His only Son will also give us all things. All things work together for good for those who love God, even in and through terrible disasters like the one in Joplin. We will wait on the Lord. We will wait for Him to show Himself to those redeemed by Christ. We will wait and know that God is good and hears and loves and answers all our prayers.

The Lord has redeemed you. He does not turn away your prayer. He hears. He answers. Call upon Him as beggars, for He is merciful. He will pardon. He comes to you today, in answer to your prayers, right where He has revealed Himself for you, in His Body and His Blood for the forgiveness of your sins, strengthening of faith and life everlasting. Amen